


A Woman's War

by ardentmuse



Series: Ned Stark Imagines [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Breastfeeding, Childbirth, Children, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lactation, Love, Marriage, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pain, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sleepy Kisses, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentmuse/pseuds/ardentmuse
Summary: A follow-up to Promises Kept and Promises Swept.Ned comforts his wife after a stressful childbirth.





	A Woman's War

The creak of your bedroom door roused you from your sleepless daze, but you didn’t have the energy to turn at the intrusion. You knew immediately who it was and all you could do was smile as the sparks from the fire danced upon your walls, casting a shadow long and tall as the figure moved inward, as quiet as a mouse but as imposing as a tower. 

“My lady,” Ned’s voice whispered as he neared the edge of your mattress, his footsteps softened even more by the bearskin rug that lay at the edge of your bed frame. If you hadn’t been waiting up for him, you might not have heard him at all. 

Your smile only grew as you tried to turn to see his handsome face, even more handsome now that he no longer tried to rid himself of his lush, full beard as he had gained the habit of doing during his time in the Vale, as was more fitting of southern men. No, he was of the North now, fully and truly once again, and every part of you was grateful for just what that meant. 

His large, warm hand, pressed firm against your shoulder blade, pausing your movement. His skin upon your skin was electric somehow, like touching metal after playing with wool, but you longed for it all the same. You felt the heat rush to your face at how, even now, the simplest graze of his fingers could send your body alight. And when he whispered, “Don’t move, darling,” before the distinct rustling of clothes falling to the floor filled your ears, the burn only worsened and that fiery need that often came from Ned’s presence alone grew in the pit of your stomach. Ned was being so quiet, so soft, as though he feared he might be caught doing something he shouldn’t. But no one would question a lord visiting his wife’s chambers at night, especially not a lord like Eddard who dotted on his lady with such care and affection. But this was no conjugal visit. 

You felt the mattress sink down as Ned crawled into the space beside you. His bare chest connected with your back, the hair there a pleasant tickle upon your still-heated skin. He sighed into your neck as he slung an arm tightly around your form. His fingers pressed firm into the flesh of your stomach, swollen and stretched, though not for much longer. 

“My precious warrior,” Ned whispered into your ear as he kissed delicately along the skin of your neck. “I’m so proud of you.” 

You wiggled backwards into your husband; just a few shakes of your hips as that was all your body could manage at the moment. 

Ned held you still once more.

“What did I say?” he asked with a chuckle, his nose grinding into your shoulder in amusement. 

You laid together for several minutes, watching the flicking of the fire’s flames upon the plush grey curtains of your room, the moonlight shining a crisp white to contrast the warm golds of your hearth. 

After several minutes, Ned’s hands began to wander, traveling the soft curves of your flesh, through the valley of your breasts until he began softly kneading the swell of them. The action itself was a beautiful torture, easing the pain and drawing attention to it all the same. You let out a hiss as the leaking began and when Ned felt the moisture of your milk, he seemed to be stirred to take in the room. 

“Where’s our son, my love?”

“With the wet nurse for the night,” you admit, feeling a flush of guilt pass through you. Disappointing Ned felt like tearing the stars from the sky some days. You swallowed once before continuing, “I did the first few feedings but after that, I was simply too tired, Ned. I needed to rest. I’m sorry.”

Ned’s head pulled itself from its home against your neck. He lifted himself on his elbows until the handsome expanse of him was hovering over your body. You rolled slowly onto your back so you could meet his eyes, the beautiful grey storms of which you loved so much. But right now, no storm existed, only the brilliant calm of silver ocean.

“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Ned’s voice was a forceful whisper. “You went to war these past few days. You fought hard. If rest is all you require, you are tougher than most men. Tougher than me, I know.” 

His hand came up to brush at the tears that were rolling down your cheek at the shame of sending your son away. Ned was smiling down at you, soft and sweet, before leaning forward to kiss you gently upon your brow. 

His voiced dropped down to a wisp; so soft and sharp you would have mistaken it for the crackle of the fire if you hadn’t been watching his mouth move.

“I’ve seen what this can cost, my love. Watched it with my own eyes. Your safety is more important to me than anything. Anything.” 

You hated reminded Ned of Lyanna but sometimes it simply happened. This had been your fifth labor, and probably not your last if you were being honest with yourself. Ned loved being a father almost as much as his children loved him, and you could see no reason to deny him the pleasure of a keep overflowing with offspring of his flesh. He’d gone to battle for you once, so it was fairly easy to find motivation to do the same for him.

Not to mention, you still, even now after almost eight years of marriage, still had trouble keeping your hands off of each other. 

You sighed as Ned returned to your side, pulling you flush against him once more. His hands didn’t stop their exploring and soon you were but mush against his body, allowing his calloused fingers to ease away a world of soreness and pain.

“Could you…” you whispered but your voice trailed.

But you didn’t need to finish. Ned knew this routine. His hands came up to your breast once more, pushing the flesh inwards and then gently rolling out in a gentle rhythm so ingrained that you worried that you might have desexualized your body for him with how often you’ve found yourself full with milk and full with child. The gentle roll of fluid was soaking your shift but the release of pressure from your breast was certainly going to help you sleep. 

And Ned didn’t seem to mind assisting one bit. 

Soon, Ned’s voice popped through the silence again.

“Why weren’t you asleep when I entered if you’re so tired, my sweet?” 

Ned’s hand slowed as the firmness of your breast released, returning to the softened tissue you were used to. He moved without request on to your other breast and you loved him all the more for how little ever needed to be spoken between the two of you.

“I was waiting for you,” you said, feeling a lightness at the honesty of it. “I’ve missed you.” 

The growl that escapes Ned’s lips is feral and raw, though his touch stays feather-light, tender and healing. 

“Aye,” he said, his accent growing stronger with his need for you, “My bed is too big without you.” 

This pregnancy had been harder than any since your first. You had been scared thinking you might have had multiple babies growing inside of you with how quickly you swelled but the maesters had been right. Your son was just a large, healthy baby, eager to come to this side of the world. And given that you had still been breastfeeding your littlest, it seemed that you had been pregnant much earlier than you thought. 

Come your sixth moon, your maester had advised you both that you would be best to sleep alone as to not disturb your womb. He had said all this to you with a stern voice, though he never looked at you and only your husband in his reproach. It seemed it wasn’t a secret to anyone in your keep just how often your husband sought out the pleasures of your body, though certainly the feeling was mutual. 

You knew that in the south, most nobles had separate chambers and that lords came to their wives’ rooms when they had need. But that tradition always seemed so foreign to you. In the north, where sharing body warmth was often a matter of life or death when the snows began to fall, the idea of spending so much time apart from your spouse seemed wrong. You had already spent your long engagement apart, and your days thrown in the midst of ruling your kingdom, that sometimes the night was the only time you had together. Besides, just toiling away in a room awaiting your husband to call upon you would have made you feel like a whore or a broodmare somehow, just with a fancier title.

No, you were Ned’s partner, his wife, his respite from the harshness of the world, and spending over two moons sleeping in separate quarters to take away the temptation of each other’s touch was simply torture. 

And the temptation was strong, for Ned seemed to find nothing more erotic than knowing your womb so eagerly quickened for his seed.

You knew Ned would come to your bed the moment the maesters cleared it. And even then it had been two days since you gave birth. Two days of waiting for your bleeding to reside and your blood pressure to return to you. This labor had been fast but more complicated than any previous. You were grateful for Ned’s precautions – though the reason he put them in place always pulled at your heart – because you weren’t quite sure you’d be sitting here as healthy as you were this time around without them. 

“Sleep, my love,” Ned cooed in your ear, his hand now running down the length of your hips to wrap tight in the light fabric of your shift, as though working to prevent his hands from going any further, from exploring the parts of you that were his alone to feel. “We’ll sleep in our bed tomorrow.” 

Something about the promise of it, the lack of question in his words, calmed your aching heart. You nuzzled into your husband’s side as sleep took you in earnest for the first time since you’d been pulled away from the man you loved, the only man who could take away your pain.

**Author's Note:**

> https://ardentmuse.tumblr.com/post/188662621801/a-womans-war-ned-stark-x-reader


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